In a dark and silent, dimly lit room,
A girl is sitting, awaiting her doom.
The clock stopped ticking, she's run out of time,
And all they'll see is a beautiful crime.
Her pain is fogging all she can see,
And her hope is running down in a stream,
In the colour of red, made from blood,
Mixed with tears, it begins to flood.
She sobs and she screams, but without a sound,
As all her thoughts make one last round.
Before she finds the peace she craved,
Every night, while the battle raged.
She's drifting away; she can feel it now,
As the pain it leaves, as she hits the ground.
All her worries now say goodbye,
As the broken angel returns to the sky.
In the dark and silent, unlit room,
A girl is lying, saved by her doom.
She's left the world now; she'd run out of time,
And all you can see is a beautiful crime.
